


texas forever

by honey_wheeler



Category: Friday Night Lights
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-09
Updated: 2012-03-09
Packaged: 2017-11-01 16:37:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honey_wheeler/pseuds/honey_wheeler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of unrelated drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. smash gets lucky

Tyra has heard all about Smash. Amazing on the field, more amazing in bed. ‘Course she mostly heard that _from_ Smash, when he was trying to get her to screw him. 

Turns out Smash Williams is all hat, no cattle.

“Sorry,” he pants. “Didn’t mean to…you know, not that fast.” _You sure you’ve done this before?_ she wants to ask, but she knows he hasn’t. Which she suspected when he came two minutes after she got her hand in his pants.

“It’s okay,” she says, almost meaning it. 

“You said that last time.” He leans on his elbows, and she feels a pleasant jolt as his hips push down. He sure is cute.

“Well,” she says. “Third time’s the charm.”


	2. street gets mean

It’s crazy how he forgets the chair, now. Saracen feints, scans the field for imaginary players, and Jason’s about to get up and run with him until he remembers he can’t. A few months ago he thought he’d never forget. It’s good to have something in his head crowding out everything else, the way football used to. The way football does again.

“Saracen!” he barks. This coaching thing is fun. Being mean to Saracen is surprisingly cathartic; Jason finds himself whistling at the dinner table, sometimes, or telling his mom how pretty she looks.

Matt’s head comes up like a deer scenting a hunter, eyes wary.

“Pack it in, you’re useless now,” Jason calls, trying not to smile when Saracen trots by, grumbling. The smile wins out, though. He grips his wheels and moves across the stubbled grass, still smiling.


	3. bo faces facts

If life were fair, everyone at school would be impressed that Bo is best friends with Tim Riggins of the Dillon Panthers. He’d get picked first in dodgeball. No one would steal his shoes anymore. Tina Jenkins would give him her pudding cup at lunch and sit by him during assemblies. Everyone would realize that Tim’s his buddy and that Tim Riggins isn’t best friends with just anyone.

His mom always says that life _isn’t_ fair and that her last boyfriend proves it. Bo doesn’t get that because he liked her last boyfriend – he let Bo control the remote – but he’s loyal to his mom so he calls Hank her bad, old boyfriend. Anyway, she knows a lot, so life must not be fair at all, even if you are a close, personal friend of Tim Riggins.


	4. the taylors have dinner

“So what he did, you’ve never seen something this amazing, I swear-”

“Mmhmm,” Tami murmurs. “Jules, casserole?”

Julie prods her food with a fork. “Didn’t we say no more football talk at the table?”

“Football talk?” Eric scowls. “Young lady, this isn’t _football talk_ , it’s the power of the human spirit. Don’t- don’t make that face at me.”

“How ‘bout this face?” Julie pokes the tip of her nose into a pig snout, giggling when he sticks out his tongue and throws his napkin at her.

“This green bean casserole sure is good, more anyone?” Tami grabs the napkin from the floor and throws it back to him. “Eric? Honey? Green beans?”

“No, thanks, I’d rather discuss my daughter’s lack of respect for the power of the human spirit.”

Tami stands. “I’m think I’m gonna break dessert out early, y’all.”


	5. smash has a crush

She’s not his type. He likes his girls pretty and sassy and smarter than him (though he won’t admit to that last part). Tall and takes-no-shit is good, too. Or curvy, or funny and hot, or just interested in him, really. Good girls, though? Yeah, he’s not too down with good girls. Especially not ones who don’t seem to think he’s anything special at all.

So it’s a surprise when he starts looking for Lyla Garrity in the halls after he breaks up with Waverly. She still doesn’t think he’s anything special, probably. But she says hi when he smiles at her, calls him Brian instead of Smash. And when he impulsively asks her to go to the movies with him Friday night, she only pauses a moment before smiling and saying yes.


	6. tyra throws a bone

It’s been a long time since Tyra’s been around someone who looks at her with such naked worship. Usually she gets guys who look at her with naked lust, or boredom, or beer-glazed eyes that can barely stay open. Never a guy whose hands shake when she leans across the table for a book and her breasts accidentally brush his arm.

She knows she shouldn’t take advantage. Landry’s just a kid and he’s already half in love with her when all they’ve done is sit around studying algebra. It’d be wrong to encourage him.

It’s just hard to remember what’s so wrong about it when she asks him to go to State with her and his face lights up like a kid who gets a puppy for Christmas.


	7. tami gets naughty

“So, what’re you wearin’?” Tami lounges on her bed, her head dangling off the edge, talking to Eric on the phone, just like she used to do in high school. He chuckles on his end. God, she misses him. It’s only been a month since he went to Austin but it feels like a year. 

“Isn’t that my question?” he asks.

“I’m not wearin’ anything,” she says in her best purr. It’s a lie; she’s got on ratty sweatpants and a threadbare Panthers t-shirt.

“Tam-”

“Know what I’d be doin’ to you if you were here?” she interrupts. “I’d put my-”

“Tami! Our daughter could pick up the phone and hear you!” 

She huffs impatiently. “Eric, quit bein’ a baby and have phone sex with me.”


	8. jackie gives in

She should know better. She’s an adult and he’s a _kid_ – even if he doesn’t _look_ or _act_ like one. She’s being irresponsible and she’s…she’s…corrupting the youth of America, that’s what she’s doing.

Jackie looks at him in the morning light. He looks younger when he’s asleep; with his eyes closed he doesn’t seem so world-weary. 

She should stop this. It can only end badly. Better now than later, when Bo’s calling him Dad and she’s contemplating allowing a high school boy to move in with her. She’ll end it now.

He stirs. His skin is golden all over, even where it shouldn’t be. Her eyes follow the dark hair arrowing down his abdomen and disappearing beneath the sheet. When she looks up, his eyes are open and on hers, frankly inviting.

Tomorrow. She’ll end it tomorrow.


	9. tyra makes her move

Last year it would have mattered that she’s Jason's best friend’s ex-girlfriend. But then, last year there was no wheelchair, and his best friend hadn’t slept with _his_ girlfriend-no-ex, and things were different.

Tyra’s always flirted with him. They first met at a party where she smiled at him even while wrapped around Tim. So it’s not exactly his fault he didn’t notice the rules changing. He thought she was visiting his hospital room to drink and watch the game, not do…other stuff.

She stops kissing him, pulls away. “You thinkin’ again?” He can hear the game on the TV behind her.

“Kinda.” It’s confusing, that’s all. 

“Want me to stop?” He thinks for a second, about Tim and Lyla. How life used to be. How Tyra’s mouth is so close.

“No,” he says. She smiles and kisses him again.


	10. girls night in

“You like that color, Lorraine?”

“I sure do, honey.” Mrs. Saracen peers down at her feet, wiggles her toes in Tyra’s grip. “Makes me feel feisty.” Tyra looks at Julie and laughs. Kind of a weird way for her to be spending a Friday night, sure, but it’s fun.

“What color did you say that was again?”

Tyra examines the bottle. “It’s called… ‘Acapulco Honey’.” 

“Arriba!” Julie calls from the couch and they all do their best Speedy Gonzalez impressions. Tyra dips the brush, moves to the other foot. Mrs. Saracen’s skin is soft and papery in Tyra’s hands and she smells like powder and cinnamon. It kind of makes Tyra want to cry a little, so she bends her head and carefully paints the big toenail, her hair falling around her face like a curtain.


	11. matt cleans up

“You did what?” Matt looks around the living room. Glasses sit on the coffee table, a meniscus of yellowy-green liquid at the bottom of each. Cotton balls lurk under the recliner.

“We had a girls’ night. Martinis and pedicures.” His grandmother brandishes her foot at him, toenails painted bright red.

“Grandma, I don’t think you’re supposed to drink with minors.”

Oh, pfff.” She waves her hand dismissively. “You know, that Tyra’s a nice girl.”

“She is?” Matt’s surprised. He wouldn’t think his Grandma and Tyra Collette would get along.

“Mmhmm.” She settles back into her recliner while Matt tries to corral the stray cotton balls. “You know I love Julie to bits, but if that doesn’t work out, you should think about Tyra.”

“Grandma!” He drops a handful of cotton.

“She’s spicy,” she proclaims. “And hot.”

“ _Grandma!_ ”

“Well, she is.”


	12. tim gets counseling

“Tim, are you even payin’ attention? I know you don’t care about anything other than football, but try to at least listen here. You’re never gettin’ back on the team if you don’t make an effort.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Taylor.” He scrubs his hand across his face, sits up in the chair. “I’m not sleepin’ much. It’s the damn ferrets.” Mrs. Taylor looks at him like he just started speaking German instead of English.

“I’m sorry, it’s the what?”

“The ferrets. Roscoe and Coltrane. I think they’re nocturnal.”

“Roscoe and…Tim, you’re gonna have to start from the beginning for me,” she says.

“I’m staying with this guy Tyra’s sister knows and helping him take care of his ferrets,” he tells her.

“So you’re not livin’ at home,” she says, cocking her head and looking at him with a little frown.

“No, ma’am,” he says. Her eyes soften. This is it, he thinks. This is the part where she slams her hand on her desk and says, Get your things, Tim, you’re comin’ home with me, and when they get there, she makes him ribs and cornbread and two kinds of vegetables and tells him he better brush his teeth and makes up a bed for him in the spare room and maybe sits on the bed and brushes his hair back and lets him push his hand up her thigh and says things like, My husband is asleep down the hall, and We really shouldn’t, and Don’t stop, Tim, and…

“You’d best get some earplugs, then. I don’t want to hear any whining about ferrets if you flunk English.”


End file.
